


After The Fire

by JackiLeigh



Category: White Collar
Genre: Angst and Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 15:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14596128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackiLeigh/pseuds/JackiLeigh
Summary: I am writing this as possible fallout from Season 5, so far.  Neal goes back to jail, a 10 year sentence.  But with good behavior he’s out in 6 years.  This story starts just after Neal is released.





	After The Fire

AFTER THE FIRE

Neal stood and waited as the gate opened. This time it was different. He felt different. There was no FBI deal this time, no confidential informant. It was just Neal Caffrey, being himself, in New York City. But he had worn so many masks, played so many roles, he wasn’t sure who Neal really was, or if he would like the person he had come to be.

At least he had a home. June Wellington had offered him the use of his old home, his loft. He asked the guard at the gate the time. They had actually let him out early, he still had a few more minutes to wait before June and her driver would be there to pick him up.

Neal was so lost in thought that he didn’t even realize he had company. He looked up when he heard the voice.

“This is familiar.” Agent Peter Burke said as he walked up to the waiting Caffrey.

“No anklet and no deal, Agent Burke.” Neal said. “I did my time, I’m a free man.” Neal paused. “And the answer is no. It will always be no.”

“You need a job to pay your bills.” Peter replied.

“My landlord is very generous.” Neal explained.

“It’s going to be hard…” Peter started, and he didn’t have to finish. Neal knew he meant hard for an ex-con to find work.

“I’ve already got some jobs lined up, thank you.” Neal said, turning his attention to the traffic. He hoped that June would get there soon.

Peter just stared at Neal for a second, wondering what Neal meant by jobs. Peter opened his mouth to speak.

June’s limo pulled up, and Neal opened the door to get in. “I have no interest in being your C.I., Agent Burke, paid or otherwise. But beyond that door…” Neal said, pointing to the prison. “…there are plenty of guys who would love the chance. Talk to them.” Neal then got into the car and the limo pulled away from the curb and into traffic.

Peter sighed, slowly walking to his car. He knew Neal had been hurt by what he had done. Peter knew Neal had only tried to help him out by taking Hagen’s advice, and making a false recording of James Bennett confessing. Peter also knew that Neal had tried to make things right, as best as he could, anyway. And all Neal had gotten in return was jail time. Peter needed a fall guy, and Neal was it. He got to take the fall for everything. Neal was busted for the coins and the stained glass window. And those charges were made to stick, even though the window was immediately reassembled and returned. The coins eventually turned up, and Hagen was put back in prison. It was discovered that he had wanted the window stolen.

It was told, and believed, that Hagen and Neal had become partners-in-crime soon after Hagen’s release. It had been a nice way to explain things and to wrap things up, even though it could not have been further from the truth. It had helped a newly-promoted agent keep his job and avoid certain jail time. And it served as a blanket explanation for a multitude of sins. That was because, somehow, somewhere the fact that James really had not confessed, that it was really not James on tape, had never come up. When certain senators made certain compromises, certain other people reaped the rewards.

In the years Neal had been incarcerated, Peter had excelled at his job. He had added more agents to his team. He even had an agent he knew could handle Neal, though that really wasn’t an issue anymore. White Collar led the New York FBI divisions in solve rates and convictions. A lot of that due to the things they had learned from Neal in his time as C.I.

Peter had kept his promotion and his life had changed, a lot. But the biggest change, for them all, was that he was no longer Neal’s handler. Peter had told Neal that things needed to change. He had called Neal just a criminal. He had seen the hurt in Neal’s eyes, and at the time, he had not cared. He needed Neal to know that there would be no more shades of gray, all black and white. And, of course, he was being a hypocrite, because that little speech of all things being black and white had applied only to Neal. Peter should have still been in a jail cell, not because he had killed a senator. James Bennett had framed him for that. But he should have been in because he was, even at the moment, withholding information about James’s ‘confession.’ It was a deep dark shade of gray that had the power to ruin Peter’s career and his life.

Neal had already lost his freedom and his relationship with Peter. But Peter had talked to the powers that be in the FBI and had managed to get Neal a paid position after release. Peter thought that that might go a little way to making things up to Neal. At least Neal would have a job and something to look forward to, upon release. Neal would be a federal employee. And as such, and an ex-con, he would have to abide by certain rules, but that was all just part of the job.

Peter visited Neal in prison, but the visits were not like before. Neal opted for the booth with the thick glass and the telephones. Peter hadn’t understood Neal’s choice. But he had not questioned Neal on it. And Peter hadn’t expected Neal’s reaction to his news. Neal had turned him down flat. Then Peter had shown up, when Neal was released, to try one more time.

 

TBC

 

 

Chapter 2

 

Peter got in his car. He started the engine, but he sat for a little bit before driving off. Peter had been almost positive that Neal would choose to come back to work in the bureau. He knew how much Neal loved the work. And he knew that Neal was missed by a lot of the agents. They would have been glad to see him back, though they would never admit it.

And, Peter had thought that Neal would have missed them too, maybe not him, but, at least, a few of the agents there. And Peter had wanted to be able to make up for the hurt he had caused, or, at least, try to.

 

WC WC WC WC WC

 

June saw Neal’s company as her driver drove up. She hadn’t asked Neal anything when he got into the car. Neal had not said anything and she didn’t want to press. She hadn’t seen him since they had suspended his visitations, a common practice with those being released. She had been so glad to just see him she had not asked a lot of questions.

“We’ve got the space almost ready. Mozzie and I have been working, for months.” June replied.

“You didn’t have to do everything….” Neal stated.

“Trust me, we didn’t. We didn’t have to try to leave you anything to do, there’s plenty.” June paused. “It just…it gave us both something to do, something to look forward to. That and knowing you would be getting out.”

“We’re not going there now?” Neal asked.

June touched his arm. “No, Darlin’, I wanted to get some real food in you. I know you won’t be eating much once you start working.”

Neal nodded and smiled; his first real smile in months. Neal had been thinking about his freedom, what his life after prison would be like. And he had come to a few decisions and conclusions. He had called June and set a few things in motion. And June had recruited Mozzie to help her. The job was just that big, and it required Mozzie’s type of expertise.

“Mozzie!” Neal smiled entering June’s house. He hugged his friend.

June had finally got to hug Neal out on the sidewalk. She had wanted to get out and hug him at the prison. But she could tell Neal wanted to just get away from there. Peter had not really been that unexpected, but June had really thought he would not have the nerve.

“Mon frère….” Mozzie replied, delighted to see his friend.

“June says you two have been very busy.” Neal stated.

Mozzie nodded as they all sat down at June’s table. Mozzie poured the wine. They then uncovered prepared plates and began to eat. They discussed Neal’s plans for his space and just how much progress June and Mozzie had made on their own.

 

WC WC WC WC WC

 

Elizabeth Burke could tell that Peter’s meeting with Neal had not gone well. Peter sighed as he sat down at the kitchen table. He drank the glass of wine El had sat down in front of him before he spoke.

“He refused…again.” Peter shook his head. “He just flat refused. It just…people think that I let him take the fall for this, El. I promise you I didn’t. He got caught in the middle, and he got blamed. He just…nobody wanted to believe he could do better, he could be better.” Peter got up and paced the room. “Even me, El…especially me. I told him he was just a criminal in the office. I don’t know who was there when I said it. I don’t know who heard that, who might have thought I actually felt that way.”

“Peter, he…give him time.” El said.

Peter shook his head. “It’s not that simple, El, the…the way he looked at me. He refers to me as Agent Burke. He calls you Ms. Burke or ‘your wife.’”

El was shocked. She had no idea. The ‘your wife’ thing really bothered her. Neal no longer even deemed her worthy of a name.

“I had just hoped. If…I wanted him back at the FBI so that he would see that they hadn’t…they hadn’t given up on him. I wanted him to know that not everybody saw him that way. Most of the agents want him back there, El. And they are going to be very disappointed when I tell them tomorrow that he flatly refused the deal.”

“What’s he got going then?” El asked. “What is he going to do?”

Peter shook his head. “He said he had some jobs lined up.”

“Jobs? What does that mean?” El asked.

Peter sighed again. “I have no idea.”

 

TBC

 

 

Chapter 3

 

It’s still there! That was Neal’s last thought before he opened his eyes. He looked around the room and his hand went automatically to his left ankle. He sighed and lay back in bed. He didn’t understand why he still felt it. Well, in his first days in prison he had had to look down to make sure that the anklet was gone. He had worn it for so long it felt…weird not having it on him.

It had been years, and as he looked around his place at June’s, he realized what it was. He had never truly been a free man here. He had always had his ankle attachment. He then looked at the clock, realizing what time it was. He usually got up around this time to meet Peter to go to work. Neal rolled over and went back to sleep. He made his own schedule now. And for the next few days he was only going to get up when he wanted. His schedule, his life, was his own.

Neal, Mozzie and June had pooled resources and had bought a building, a warehouse really. It was one of those huge beautiful brick buildings with the gigantic windows. The kind that inventive people made into apartments and that was kind of Neal’s idea, with a twist. He would be creating a sort of artist’s colony. The location of his building had been planned. It was just blocks from an art school. Neal knew the building the school was in was too small to hold all its classes. Neal had planned on renovating his building to include apartments, classrooms, art studios, and an art gallery. He planned to offer housing and classroom space to the school and its students. He would oversee his colony, using some of the space for his own art studio. Neal would display and sell Neal Caffrey originals and the students’ work in the art gallery. 

Neal would charge the students rent for the apartments. He would charge them a fee, to use the studio space, which he planned to include in the rent of those living in the building. He would also take a small percentage of the sale of those students’ art for the use of the art gallery. Neal would also showcase other students’ work, in planned art shows he would do throughout the year, charging the same percentage. He also planned on opening use of the studio to the other students in the school. For those, he would just charge a flat fee for use. And he would charge the school, per semester, for use of the classrooms and the art studios.

When he added up the profits, and subtracted the expenses, he was still making less than he would as a Confidential Informant. Peter had mentioned the salary, hoping that it would be an enticement to Neal. But nothing about the job sounded the least bit enticing. Neal was over that part of his life. He didn’t need to risk his life for people who only cared about the information that they could glean from him. He had no intention of becoming obsolete in a world where people used guns to clean up messes, remove obstacles, and in all other ways, solve problems.

June and Mozzie were ready, anxious to continue, now that Neal was home. They could only make so much of Neal’s plan a reality with him behind bars. And now that he was out, well, it was full speed ahead.

“Well, Neal….” Mozzie said coming into Neal’s space. “We will have enough room for 6 apartments, I know I, at first, told you 7 but….” He noticed that Neal was still in bed, asleep.

Mozzie put down his notepad on Neal’s dining room table. He poured himself a glass of wine and took it out onto the balcony.

 

WC WC WC WC WC

 

“What did you find?” Peter asked Diana as soon as she came into his office.

“There’s a building on 24th and Oak that June Ellington bought about 3 years ago. We have contracts from construction companies to do all kinds of work, everything from electrical work and plumbing to drywall. We even found a contract for the services of an interior design firm.” Diana handed Peter the folder she had compiled with copies of all the contracts that she could find.

“They had to file plans with the city. Get a copy of the construction plans.” Peter ordered just as Jones came to the door.

“This isn’t a case.” Jones stated.

“No, Clinton, it’s not.” Peter said, knowing that Jones would say next. “And no, I can’t just…let him go. I’m just…I’m checking on him. That’s all.”

 

WC WC WC WC WC

 

Neal threw the covers off and climbed out of bed. He had slept an additional hour and he was now ready to face the day. He crossed his kitchen floor, on the way to the bathroom.

“Oh, by the way, Wineosorous, you need to supplement my wine collection or develop a taste for a decidingly cheaper Chardonnay.” Neal called to Mozzie, letting him know that he was up.

Neal returned from the bathroom, a little while later, his waist wrapped in a towel. And he was drying his hair with another. He was dressed, moments later, in a t-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes.

“No unworthy spirit shall ever cross this palate.” Mozzie said as he re-entered the room. Then he noticed Neal’s attire. “A far cry from the suits….”

Neal shook his head. His heart ached, just a little. But he had to move on. “I need to dress more appropriately. Like the starving artist I really am.” He paused. “Who did you steal that quote from?”

“That, mon frère, was a Mozzie original…and you’re welcome.” He put his wine glass down for a second. “June’s got your first job all set up, a family portrait. The Wilson Family, the dad’s a banking CEO on the Upper East Side.” Mozzie stated

Neal nodded. “At 2:30 p.m. at their townhouse, I got it.” June had already given him the address. “I just have to gather up my supplies. June’s driver is going to take me.”

Moz pulled out a chair and took a seat at Neal’s kitchen table. 

Neal sighed seeing his friend’s expression, he pulled out a chair and sat also.

“You’re sure about this. I mean…” Mozzie said. “…do you even know what that means, what it entails?”

Neal sat back in his chair. He had had years, literally, to think about what he was doing now. How he would change things when he left prison. But he had decided this was for the best, and he planned on setting himself up to succeed.

“I know…we used to talk about the risk, the getting away with the crime, avoiding jail time as part of the thrill in performing the time.” Neal stated. “It was the motivation to do the crime well and do it in such a way that we would never get caught. And I used to feel that way, Moz. I really did. But the ends don’t justify the means for me anymore. It was never about the money for me anyway. We both know that. And know I just…I had only the best intentions with trying to help Peter. It just…I just, I considered them friends, more than friends. I looked up to Peter in a lot of ways. I tried to make him proud of me. I know how it sounds, but you know it’s true. And…” Neal got up and walked around the room, mostly so that Mozzie wouldn’t see his tears. “…look where it got me.”

Mozzie nodded. Neal had told him about the comment Peter had made about the only thing Neal would ever be was a criminal. And Mozzie saw the pain in Neal’s eyes when he repeated the story. And then, of course, June and Mozzie had gone to court for Neal’s sentencing. And they had heard all the evidence being brought against Neal. They had both spoken to both El and Peter and made their feelings known in the intervening years after the trial.

“El asked me to, Mozzie! She asked me, knowing I could never tell her no. And look where it got me!” Neal said there were still tears in his eyes. And now there was anger mixed in with the hurt. “I knew it was wrong. But I also thought that Peter would be grateful for…for what I did. I never expected him to…to just let me go like that. I never expected him to wash his hands of me. But that’s exactly what he did. He got to keep his freedom, his job, and his promotion. I got to lose my freedom, my friends, and the life I knew.” He paused again. “The knife wound in my back is still bleeding.”

“He did offer. Peter did say that you could be a paid consultant.” Mozzie reminded him.

“I couldn’t work with Peter after that. Not after…not the way I feel now.” Neal replied.

“Agent Burke wouldn’t let anything…? Mozzie asked, afraid to finish the bad thought he had.

“No,” Neal said. “He’d protect me. But only as a professional obligation and because of the amount of paperwork a C.I.’s death would produce.”

The coldness of Neal’s statement didn’t really surprise Mozzie as much as the change in attitude. Neal wasn’t antiestablishment. He was going legit, after all. He was anti one particular fed, it seemed. Neal was still friendly with Diana and Jones, even though he understood that, most likely, they were telling Peter things about him.

“Are we even capable of going…I’m sorry, Neal. I can’t even say the word.” Mozzie replied.

“We are, Moz.” Neal reassured him. “This venture is going to pay off.”

“…not like a fenced Monet.” Mozzie countered.

“…not like an extended jail term.” Neal threw back. “Imagine a whole decade of your life, behind bars.”

Mozzie and Neal sat and thought about the conversation, drinking their wine.

June appeared in the doorway. “Come on, Darlings, much to do.” She addressed Neal. She paused when she saw the tears. She hugged him. “I am so sorry, Neal, so sorry.” She stepped back and gave him a moment to gather himself. “And we are sorry about last night. But it got to be so late. We just thought it would be better to wait until morning for you to see the space.”

“I am really anxious to see what you’ve done.” Neal said. He was glad to just have something to look forward to, something that he was actually excited about. He quickly wiped his tears.

June, Neal and Mozzie had a quick breakfast and then loaded into June’s limo to drive to Neal’s latest project. The workmen were already on the job. They were in all parts of the building. Some of the spaces were nearing completion, others were just getting started. Given the scope of the project and the systematic nature of the work, delays in one area set the other areas behind. And there had been many delays for a variety of reasons. But things seemed to be going smoothly this morning. 

 

TBC

 

Chapter 4

 

Peter knew he should have gone home. El would have dinner waiting for him. But he couldn’t. He had gotten the construction blueprints and he had gone over what June Ellington had planned.

Peter had no idea what it meant. He needed to go and see for himself. Maybe he could talk to some of the construction workers. Maybe they could shed light on a few things.

“Well, you couldn’t be on a stakeout. The FBI utility van is nowhere in sight.” Neal said, stepping up to Peter’s side of the car.

Peter had been…focused on the building he had forgotten his surroundings.

“Neal, I….”

“Why are you here?”

“I just…I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Peter said, and he had to admit, even to himself, that it sounded weak.

Neal scoffed. “Yeah, you were so concerned about me that you sent me to prison. You sent me to a place where snitches are known to get killed. And I was a pretty well-known snitch, Agent Burke. I…people threatened my life on a daily basis.” He reported. “So, good job with that!”

“I didn’t….”

“You said once a criminal, always a criminal. And you set out to prove your point. Besides, Agent Burke, who would even believe I could do anything except be a criminal, just like you said.” Neal fumed. “What I did was wrong, and deserved jail time for breaking the law. I don’t dispute that. But I didn’t deserve to be thrown under the bus for your selfish reasons.”

Peter opened his mouth to speak.

“You knew if I got charged for all the ‘other’ charges, the one you didn’t want to be questioned would be added to the list. And the kicker is, Agent Burke, double jeopardy would have probably applied and you couldn’t be charged with the senator’s murder again. But, of course, even on the lesser charge, of withholding evidence, your career would have been ruined. You would have been disgraced and you would have left the FBI.” Neal paused. “I was going back to jail, so Hagen lost his leverage. But, besides all that, I did what I did to help out my friends. People who I, at the time, believed were my friends, my family.” Neal looked at Peter. “Because I was stupid enough to believe that you thought of me the same way! I was stupid enough to believe you cared!” Neal turned to walk away.

“I do….”

Neal turned back and nodded. “Yeah, you care about your nice job, your comfortable house, and your nice new car! You’ve still got all of that! This is my life! I’m a free man, Agent Burke. You have your pound of flesh. Leave me alone!”

Peter hadn’t even had the chance to get out of his car, and now he knew that there was no use. Fortunately they were far enough away from the worksite that the workers didn’t hear what was being said. But Mozzie and June had moved and in were close by, just in case Neal needed them. Peter did the only thing that he could he ducked his head, started the engine and drove away.

 

WC WC WC WC WC

 

Peter dropped into his chair at the dinner table. But he had no appetite. He started to get up and leave his plate when El spoke to him. She brought him a beer and sat it down beside a nice frosty glass. Peter took the glass and poured the beer into it.

“So?” El asked as she sat. She knew things had gone badly. She just wanted to know how bad.

“Neal said the only reason I did what I did was to save myself. He said he considered us his family, and that he did what he did to help out his family. Then he told me to leave him alone.”

“Peter!”

“He said I threw him under the bus.” Peter shook his head. He was in misery. His beer didn’t even taste good. “I just wanted…I needed to know that he’s going to be okay. I wanted to see that…that he was doing well.”

“Give him time.” El offered.

Peter shook his head. “Neal’s not going to forgive us, El. We crossed the line. We both knew how Neal felt. We both knew he considered us his family, how close he felt to us. You used it when….” Peter didn’t finish is sentence. He didn’t have to; El knew exactly what he meant.

El nodded. She had taken advantage of the relationship. She knew Neal would help her, do whatever she had asked. She had used Neal’s guilt over his bringing his dad into their lives. She bowed her head, tears in her eyes. She realized what she had done.

 

TBC

 

 

Chapter 5

 

AN: This is for Leonor09. Sorry I didn’t address this before. It would have been about 14 years. Neal was in prison for 3 years, 9 months. That was before his C.I. deal. He’s spent 4 years, plus a few months, on the C.I. deal and then, in my story, he was back in prison for 6 years. That adds up to approximately 14 years, give or take a few months. I hope that this clears things up.

 

At this point 3 months had passed and the building was nearing completion. Neal was there every day. June came every few days or so, to make sure things going as scheduled. Neal was setting up his studio. And he was beginning to paint. He had so many beautiful landscapes, so many pretty picture postcards in his mind. It would be ashamed not to get those out. He painted the places he had visited while on the run from Peter. He painted scenes from his recent trip to Cape Verde. He painted the scene from his balcony. He was glad to just to be able to paint. 

June had gotten Neal many jobs since his release. She had lots of friends who wanted family portraits. They even asked for knock-offs of famous artists. And Neal was happy to comply. He was working. He was making good money and it was not illegal, in any way, to sell knockoffs, as long as both parties knew. Besides, Neal signed his works of art in more obvious ways these days.

“Never knew you were one for self-portraits.” Mozzie replied, taking one of the few chairs Neal had in his studio.

Neal didn’t reply, he just stepped back and looked at his work. He was concentrating on the figure, at the moment. He would put the figure in its background later. He stared for a moment longer. The figure had his back turned. It was obvious it was a male figure. He had no shirt on and the musculature of his back and arms was pronounced.

“He’s not looking at the painter, Mozzie.”

“He doesn’t have to. That’s you when you replicated that statue you later broke….” Mozzie paused. “When we stole the music box?” He knew Neal knew what he was talking about.

Neal nodded. “Yeah, the good ole days.”

“It’s actually really good. Is it going into the show?” Mozzie asked.

Neal considered probably. “I just. We have a lot to do before then, Mozzie. I appreciate you and June going ahead and making arrangements for the school to rent out the space.”

Mozzie nodded. “You are very welcome. And we only had one apartment left to rent out.”

Neal nodded. “Good, they should all be ready to occupy in a couple of weeks. That will give the students…and me, time to produce some quality artwork for the show.”

Mozzie sipped his wine, as he walked around the space. A lot had changed in the time Neal had been released from prison.

“You did a really good job planning this.” Neal admitted to him.

Mozzie shook his head. “No! You’re going….” Mozzie shook his head. “…I can’t even say it. And, as your friend, I am supporting you. But I must remain anti-establishment.”

“You must?” Neal said, grinning.

“The last bastion of humanity in a sea of Fed.” Mozzie stated.

“That one was pretty good. You should write it down.” Neal chuckled.

“It was kind of fun…planning everything.” Mozzie admitted.

“You could be my assistant.” Neal offered.

“What?”

“…my assistant.” Neal said. “I need somebody to take care of things for me.”

“So, what, if you were Van Halen, I’d be your roadie? Your lackey? Your minion?” Mozzie asked.

Neal said. “June’s been kind, Moz, and I do appreciate it. But she only has so many friends. And not many of them want an ex-con in their house with their valuables. I need to work.”

Mozzie and Neal fell silent. They were looking at the painting again.

“I’m just…” Neal was painting himself. He hadn’t even realized it. He had just wanted to paint the human form, the way shadow and light played across the body. He wanted the subject to be a mystery. He had not finished it yet, but he had had his subject working on a sculpture. That was to be a clue to his identity. He had not even painted it yet, but the scene was to be his apartment, and he would give the view of looking at his bedroom area.

“I like it though.” Mozzie said, studying the painting thus far. “A man of mystery, I get it. …some of your best work.”

“What do you think?” Neal asked.

“I just said…some of your best work.” Mozzie repeated.

“Not that! Do you want to be my anti-establishment, non-conformist, Van Halen-type roadie?” Neal asked.

“I don’t know.” Mozzie said, quickly. The thought of having a regular job gave him hives. But he did like the idea of a regular, dependable flow of cash.

“Look, you can have a trial period. Give it a month. If you don’t like it….” Neal said, giving his friend an out.

Mozzie nodded, agreeing.

 

TBC

 

 

Chapter 6

 

AN: I don’t know about you guys, but the whole Diana being pregnant just came out of left field for me. I had no idea. Diana never mentioned kids, now she’s pregnant! Whiskey Tango Foxtrot! (Don’t worry, if you’re not military, or an NCIS fan, you may not get this. Just look at the first letter of all three words.) I invite you to express your thoughts here if you would like, via review or PM. Hope you enjoy! 

 

Six months later:

Peter crossed the busy street to the coffee shop, as he had many mornings. He got his coffee and stepped out onto the street. He occupied himself reading the flyers pasted on the window. He did a double take when his eyes passed over a certain flyer. He knew the address it spoke of. He smiled and pulled out his phone and called El.

“Okay, the flyers are up.” Mozzie replied as he walked down a busy NYC street. “The caterers…thanks god we own a bakery. June and I are going wine shopping this evening. We have most of the student’s paintings up…displayed. We still have a few paintings to display. I’ll make sure everybody sticks to the 5 p.m. deadline to make their choices.”

“Good, good.” Neal replied. “I have all my selections hung already. I’ll have the students set up the tables and put on the tablecloths for the food.” Neal took a deep breath. “This is actually going to happen.”

Mozzie smiled and nodded. “…your first art show.”

“My first art show. I like that.” Neal stated.

 

WC WC WC WC WC

 

Neal wondered the rooms, the show was set up in the gallery of his building and all the rooms were being used. The show included over 200 pieces, twenty contributed by him. Neal heard the door open. He took a deep breath and turned to greet his first guests. 

“So, this is what a Neal Caffrey art show looks like?” Special Agent Clinton Jones asked as he entered. He was accompanied by his partner, Special Agent Diana Berrigan.

“It is.” Neal said. “Good to see you, Clinton, Diana.” He hugged them both.

“…very nice.” Clinton stated looking around the gallery.

“Very classy, Neal.” Diana said, echoing Jones’ sentiment.

Neal nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before now. But thank you both for everything,…for your help with the show. Diana, the pictures you sent me in prison, Theo is such a handsome little man. And thanks for the phone calls, Clinton. I just…it was so nice to hear from the two of you.”

“Some things happened that shouldn’t have, Neal.” Jones replied. “We know things we’re not supposed to.”

“Enough people have been hurt.” Diana stated.

Jones and Diana knew about James voice recording being faked. They had their suspicions anyway. There was no way for Neal to find his dad in that short amount of time. The man was good at hiding. He had hid himself, very well, for 30 years. And they couldn’t see Neal getting James to just confess to anything. But there was no proof, so all they had was intuition. Plus, Peter was getting promoted and then Jones got promoted to fill Peter’s spot. It was a lot of change at one time. But neither of them expected Peter to just let Neal go to jail like that. Neither expected Peter not to fight as hard as he could for Neal. But Peter didn’t fight. He allowed Neal to go back to jail. Then they understood, Neal needed to go down for this. That would end the investigations, into everything. The truth of the voice recording would never be known. Peter would get to keep his new position, his career. His knowledge of the recording being faked would never be brought to light. After all, the only person other person who knew was Neal. And he would have no reason to bring it up, conviction on that charge would just add more time to his sentence. They both had liked Neal. They had appreciated his help on cases and his willingness to do whatever was needed to bring down the criminal. Diana also had a special bond with Neal, thanks to Theodore. Mozzie and Neal had delivered her child. She was not going to do anything to hurt the person who brought her baby into the world. 

Neal nodded and then excused himself as more people began arriving. Diana and Jones helped themselves to glasses of wine and then started to look at the exhibits.

Neal went to greet his other guests and fellow artists entered the building. Several of the art school students had their paintings on exhibit and they were almost as excited as Neal to be a part of an art gallery showing. Plus, several of the female students had developed a bit of a crush on their landlord and/or the gallery owner.

Neal came up to Diana and slipped his arm around her waist. 

Diana whispered. “I realize you no long work for the FBI, but I will still break your arm.”

“I need some arm candy.” Neal replied. “All these college girls…. He shook his head.

Diana slipped her arm around Neal’s waist, signifying she agreed to assume the role. “Which one of these girls is messing with my man?” Diana grinned as she looked around the room. “I’ll kick her ass.”

Neal laughed.

“You use the phrase ‘baby daddy,’ even once, and I’m out of here.” Diana warned.

Neal nodded, and they played up the ‘couple’ angle for a few minutes.

June and Mozzie had arrived soon after Neal, bringing the wine. They then took their places at the purchasing booth.

Neal heard his phone ring. He checked the text message. They are here. It said.

Neal looked around the room. Then he spotted the object of the text. He stood staring for just a second.

U OK? Mozzie texted back.

As long as their check doesnt bounce. Neal texted quickly before greeting the newcomers.

“We wanted to make sure it…it was okay that we’re here.” Elizabeth Burke stated.

“It’s a public event, Mrs. Burke. You and Agent Burke have every right to be here.” Neal stated, cooly.

“Neal, we….” Peter started.

Neal shook his head. “I’m past the awkwardness, Agent Burke. I’m past the hurt. I had been waiting years to say the stuff I said to you. I just wanted to be a free man when I said it, that’s all. I’m done!” Neal paused. “We can’t go back. There’s nothing to go back to.” Neal turned and walked away.

 

TBC

 

END NOTES: I have never been to an art gallery showing so I don’t know how they work. And probably at a college show they would not be as fancy as to offer wine, if they offered anything at all. But this is Neal’s showing and I think if he had a show, he would do it that way.

Having said all that, I sincerely hope that the Neal/Peter stuff I’ve written doesn’t happen on the show. I would be devastated and stop watching. But it has been fun to write just to see if it would work. I’m pretty close to the end, and to be honest, I don’t know how it’s gonna end. But I can promise you that I won’t force a happy ending. I detest nice little endings wrapped in pretty red bows. Unless, that is, they feel natural to the story.

 

Chapter 7

 

AN: Thanks to lindycat for the idea for part of this chapter.

“I appreciate it, Hon.” Peter replied. “I just don’t know how much good it’ll do.”

“June and Mozzie love Neal. They want what’s best for him.” El reasoned. “They’ll listen.”

“That doesn’t mean Neal will, or that they will even tell Neal that they spoke to you…if they will even speak to you.” Peter said.

“Why are you being so negative about this?” El asked.

“I’m not being negative, I’m facing reality.” Peter replied. “I’ve thought about myself enough here, El. It was thinking about me that got us into this mess.”

“Neal was the one….” El started.

“No.” Peter said, shaking his head. “My wife asked Neal for help, knowing he would not refuse her.”

“Peter…?” El started.

“I just can’t. He deserves better than that. And if that means I need to not be in his life. Then that means I need to not be in his life.” Peter stated.

 

Two years and about 4 art shows later:

Peter stopped and looked again. His hair was longer and he was sporting facial hair. Plus his wardrobe had changed. He opted for ultracasual these days, but it was him. Peter didn’t even have to see the blue eyes.

Peter pulled out a chair at an adjacent table. He sat where he had, purposefully. He wanted to see what the man was drawing.

“I knew this guy once. He was a pretty good artist.” Peter stated as he sipped his coffee.

“He’s a great artist.” The man replied.

“…and very modest and humble.” Peter said, smiling.

“A lot’s happened.” The man said.

Peter nodded. “Yeah, yeah it has. Lives have changed, and you’ve proved me wrong.”

Neal looked at Peter. He knew Peter was talking about the ‘once a criminal’ thing. “This doesn’t mean….”

Peter nodded again. “I know. But I would like, if I could…every once in a while, to come and talk to an old friend.”

Neal smiled. “I’d like that.”

 

THE END

END NOTES: Well, guys, this is it. I didn’t do that nice pretty red bow here. It wouldn’t fit, the box wouldn’t close properly. I left this the way I thought this story would end.


End file.
